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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312622">popsicle sticks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chansuk/pseuds/chansuk'>chansuk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>GOT7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fem!Mark, Ice Cream, all things warm, and summer heat, fem!youngjae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:48:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chansuk/pseuds/chansuk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>mary wants ice cream; youngja is sleepy</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Youngjae/Mark Tuan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>popsicle sticks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayluna/gifts">gayluna</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>also wrote this in 2015 under the psued kookseok, then deleted it lmao<br/>anyway, for jade, as always. and i still remember the art u made me for this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">summer is the bane of mary’s existence. the soft hum of the fan in the window isn’t enough to stir her awake, but the outrageous amount of heat she feels makes it uncomfortable to find any bounds to slumber. her legs are tangled with youngja’s, arm wrapped around her waist and if wasn’t for the younger’s impeccable need to clutch everything when she sleeps, she might be in the calming realm of sleep. however, like most of the moments in her life she finds there’s nothing more sweet than having youngja in her arms. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> she’s been awake for god knows how long, listening to youngja’s soft breathing, wondering if she should untangle herself or not. as she lies there though, tongue thick and sweet tooth not sated in these wee hours of the morning, she spends a moment or two pondering over the plausible cause of making a late night trip to the grocery mart right down the street. she chews on the inside of her cheek, taking in a deep breath and hesitating on the edge of apprehensiveness. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “youngja,” she whispers, bringing a hand up to the younger’s shoulder and giving it a light shake. when she receives no response, she tries once more and takes the sign of her mumbling “what?”, voice laden with sleep, as a good sign. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “hey, want to get ice cream?” she asks, palm of her hand rubbing against youngja’s shoulder in an attempt to coax her awake. she’s still blinking away the remnants of sleep, stifling a yawn before she closes her eyes once more. “my treat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> youngja hand comes up to her eye, rubbing it as she tries to adjust to the moonlight filtering in through the window. “what time is it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> mary softly smiles while her thumb rubs circles on the soft skin, warm underneath her touch. “ice cream time.” she watches youngja lightly chuckle, fingers searching for mary’s hand to bring it close, sighing when mary grabs hold of it. “please,” she pouts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> youngja’s brow furrows and she sighs once more. “okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> mary untangles themselves and pushes the light sheet that’s covering them away, hearing youngja groan with displeasure. she walks around the bed and pulls her sweater off the floor, shoving her arms through the holes and almost getting her head stuck. she slips on her shorts and watches youngja slowly lift herself up off the bed, arms dangling and shoulders hunched. there’s a piece of hair sticking up in the back, stiffened from sleep and adorable in every way. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “arms up,” mary says as she’s reaching for another sweater. youngja obliges but they’re hanging halfway— it’ll have to do.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “but mary, i don’t have a bra on,” she groans as mary’s shoving the sleeves over her arms and trying to fit it over her head without hurting her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “it’s fine, it’s fine,” mary reassures, almost giggling at how the hair from before is now covering youngja’s entire face, her fingers softly brushing them aside and heart swelling at the sight of youngja leaning from side to side with her eyes closed. she </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">reaches for some slip on's and tugs them over youngja’s feet, thankful the younger wore sport shorts to bed and saving her from the hassle of dressing her while she’s half asleep. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> she holds her hand out for youngja and watches the younger’s head drop. “c’mon, it’ll be quick. i promise.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> youngja complies and threads her fingers with mary’s, using mary’s weight to tug herself up and off the bed. she reaches for the back of mary’s sweater and grasps a piece of the fabric, bringing herself near as she closely follows her footsteps in the dark. and as sleep starts to come and go she vaguely recalls the many late night adventures they’ve had previous to their relationship and finds a calming sense of contempt in it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> the grocery mart isn’t quite far but the journey becomes long when youngja is slowly following along, hand still gripping onto mary’s sweater and other laced with her hand. it’s a comfort and a habit but neither of them are bothered by it but rather enjoy it. mary is slowly leading her, listening to the crickets and the frogs thrum to life, finally cool in the late night summer breeze that softly tousles her hair and kisses the tips of her face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> she doesn’t make much for conversation because she’s grown to realize trying to strike up a deep and riveting topic with youngja at hours like these is actually much harder than one would lead to believe. it took after the third time they started this late night journey to come to the conclusion that the most words she were going to get out of youngja were either a hum in confirmation or to acknowledge she was still listening, and a light chuckle so easily permissible mary swears she’s missed it more than once. she doesn’t find fault in it though, quite enjoys it because she’s not exactly the most interesting person to talk to, but youngja makes it feels as though she is and that’s enough. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> the store comes into view and right across the walkway there is a bench. she wanders over and settles youngja down, trying to free herself from her grasp, sweatshirt tugging against her frame. “i’ll be right back,” she whispers, and with a deep sigh the younger lets go and brings her hands up to her face, cheeks plush and lightly tinted. “what kind of ice cream do you want?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “orange cream,” youngja softly replies, a tuft of hair finding home on the other side of her head, mimicking one giant cow lick and mary’s broken at the fact she didn’t bring her phone to record such a memorable moment (amongst the many stored inside her phone). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> mary nods and wanders into the store, eyes on the ice cream freezer and the array of choices inside. she picks out her and youngja’s favorite flavors before paying for them, eyes occasionally glancing out the glass windows to check on the younger. when she walks back out, she unwraps youngja’s first knowing full well of the younger’s capabilities when sleep still tugs at her tender graces, and watches her press her fingers against the popsicle stick. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> mary settles down next to her, already divulging herself in her fudge flavored ice cream and wonders how long it’s been since their last journey. they’ve been living together for awhile now that she’s forgotten all about it when her actual craving for youngja wasn’t as easily sated when they were apart, but now she’s always in her presence and she’s never found a need for this. she misses it though, revels in the newfound feeling it brings, the saccharine taste or reminisce and she’s reminded of all those nights and how quickly she fell for someone just as sweet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> in the middle of their first summer together her train of thought is burst when she feels a thump on her shoulder, looking to the side to see youngja’s head leaning against her and her soft snoozes drifting in the billowing breeze that encompasses them. her hand is dangling off the bench and her popsicle lies on the pavement, a small but forming puddle around it. she almost laughs at the sight but swallows it down as she tries to finish the last few bits of her fudge ice cream. she tosses the stick into the trashcan near her and starts whispering the younger’s name. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “c’mon,” she says. “time to go back home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> youngja huffs and mumbles something incoherent but mary’s so used to it by now that she doesn’t think much of it. she opts to carry youngja back home instead and finds it more of a hassle trying to get youngja on her back than waking her up, but sometime during the whole thing youngja complies and mary has to readjust her a few times before she makes way. youngja has her cheek pressed against her back, her arms wrapped around her neck and dangling. it’s a familiarity mary has grown quite used to and has no qualms with it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> during the short walk home she has to readjust youngja a few more times but is able to make it back safe and sound, legs heavy and heart swollen. unlocking the apartment door and getting inside proves more difficult than before and it takes a bit longer than she’s used to but they're back home and youngja’s back in bed, reaching for a pillow and wrapping her arms around it, still wearing mary’s sweater and her shoes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> after she’s taken them off and undressed herself she crawls back into bed and nestles close to youngja, the pillow a barrier between them. she can see just barely see youngja’s face in the moonlight but it’s just enough to help her fall back into slumber. and it’s nice because unlike all those previous times, this won’t be the last time mary sees her for that day in hopes that maybe they’ll meet the next, but rather that now she’ll wake up everyday to her face and want nothing more than to stay in those moments. </span>
</p>
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